Claws
by theramblingfangirl
Summary: A war that lasted several millennia is finally at it's end and the time has come to start healing and rebuilding what was lost. And one vehicon is about to retrace steps they thought they never would again to, as humans would say: "extend an olive branch." Because many of the things said about these outliers hiding in the wastelands, could just as easily be said about them.


One thing that can be said about XS-02 is that providing you are the right person and give her the right sort of thing, she is someone who is very easily bribed.

She'd bridge you wherever you wanted with either no or only very minimal questions asked.

Which all things considered, is a very useful thing. It had been useful before, and is very useful right now.

Because were the vehicon to try make this journey by pede or wheels and not the bridge then he'd never make it back in time before him being gone was noticed.

He did not have long to try do this.

And even with the bridge, the journey was still an arduous one, not helped that Shockwave had deliberately put in measures to make finding any of his labs that much more difficult.

So here he was, following a rumour of creatures.

So here he was, traipsing through the rustlands, arms uselessly occupied in holding the somewhat obscene number of energon cubes he'd rationed for whom he was looking for, rather than taking himself.

So here he was, traipsing through lands so dangerous they were still officially out of bounds, completely unable to defend himself.

Lands where he'd heard once proud structures had stood, vibrant, tall, reaching for the sky, and now all that was left of it was long rusted piles of scrap and hidden deathtraps. Lands where the only sound around was some occasional...scuttling...and him.

Him as he carefully put one pede forwards at a time, first lightly, testing to see that the ground was stable, that it wasn't going to give way underneath him, before putting his full weight down. His optics scanning ahead for any sign of any thing. A task easier said than done when you were relatively low on power from rationing your fuel.

But even then, with all that care, he wound up slipping. A patch of rust flaking away beneath him, sending him forwards. Panic gripped the vehicon and he only just barely had time to twist slightly so that he slammed harshly onto his side with a clang, rather than on top of all the cubes he was carrying.

He did not even let himself have one klik before he forced himself back up, gathering the cubes that had falled out of his grasp and resumed his strides.

He'd faced a lot worse before, even disregarding combat.

He was a creature of Shockwave too, after all, like those he was seeking out now.

"Born" when one spark had been forcefully split into many, barely able to avoid beimg extinguished itself in the process.

...He'd had so many siblings once, when he was first "born", mechs just like him, a family...but he bearly got to know any of them. Most died within their first few cycles, either through the war they were thrown into with no preparation other than some hurried advice, further experimentation, or through being terminated for being defective.

So much pain...those early memories. He felt it. He felt not only what was done unto him in that lab, but each time one of his siblings had been offlined he had felt it in his own spark, like their termination had been his very own. And it got worse and worse each and every time unil he barely knew how he could keep going at all.

The only reason he had survived at all and been able to claw himself out of that situation was because of help.

Becuase of optics wilfully turned, because of his oldest sibling- the original out of all of them and the only member of his family that was even left by then- saying no more and grabbing and running with him. They were going to the Nemesis. He wasn't to worry, his sibling had heard rumours on how to sneak on. They just needed to get there, get there and for them to not say how he was just a clone.

Then everything would be fine. They would be safe.

But it wasn't and they weren't.

Becuase now he is the last. All alone and it aches worse than anything else that had ever been done to him and ever could be.

And now here he was. Doing his best to try retrace those fleeing steps that haunted him still, in the vain hope that he was heading down the correct direction.

In the vain hope that the predacons might possibly not only have been created in the same general area, but have also stayed there.

To try give them help, as had been done for him more than once before.

Because he understood.

"Abomination!" "Unnatural!" "Not of Primus!" "Inferior than the rest of us real Cybertronians!" "It is even actually sentient?" "Cannon fodder. That's all it is."

All phrases that had been used to describe him once. Back when it was known what he actually was.

All phrases that he knew would be used once again if that secret became public.

All phrases he had heard used about the predacons.

Denied the most basic aspects kindness no matter what had been done by them for the cause. Viewed as not even a real con. As expendable.

The vehicon also knew how this all felt. Perhaps not exactly, with the species difference and his own capacity to hide his method of creation, but close enough.

That isolation no matter how many others were around you, that feeling of otherness...that...that...

...

...They wouldn't last out here, not forever, no matter how sharp their claws might be or loud their roars. Not in the rustlands, so lacking in any source of energon.

They needed to know that they could come back, that there was people there who would accept them if they just came back.

Back to where even now some of his fellow vehicons worked to help rebuild something habitable with those...fragheaded autobots, who in his opinion were more beasts than the Predacons ever could be.

He had not forgiven them, he never would, but he knew that now...now to rebuild, survive, they would all have to work together.

Everyone.

Decepticon. Autobot. Predacon.

And so he kept walking. The vehicon clone kept walking until, just as he was beginning to fear that he may have to turn around after all, lest he miss the designated pick up time XS-02 had given him, he heard a roar.

He had been spotted.

With that he crouched down, helm ducked low as he removed his mask and placed it down along with the cubes, determined to make it clear that he was not a threat. He was not here to hurt them.

The predacon who had spotted him didn't take long to land, with a thud, the very ground beneath them shaking.

Of them he saw those renowned claws first, as his gaze shifted up ever so slightly from his own.

And then slowly, ever so slowly, he looked up further.

He felt a bit guilty, hypocritical, at how scared he was starting to feel now actually in the presence of a real predacon. This was the closest he'd ever actually been before, as he'd never had the chance to actually meet Predaking on the ship...but he still knew his fear wasn't fair.

They may look likes beasts but that didn't mean they were beasts.

After all: Form did not dictate function

No matter how off putting some of his fellow Cybertronians might look.

He knew that.

So he mustered up for the hissing predacon a faint smile as he carefully gestured slightly towards the cubes. All the while, extending his EM field to hopefully silently signal to it friend.

The predacon took some steps towards him, examining him closely, they're own EM field clearly giving of an implied threat of danger, should they deam the much smaller Con any sort of threat.

He in return kept his own EM field steady and positive while gesturing to his offering slowly once again.

Not a threat. Friend. Bring fuel.

The predacon did turn this time to have a look at the fuel he was gesturing towards, and started nudging at and examining it.

But the predacon very clearly was low on fuel, as the vehicon suspected that most would be by now, so the caution did not last and the being quickly wound up tearing into one of the cubes and consuming it's contents.

Soon after another predacon arrived, apparently having noticed something was going on.

This one landed so close to him he was almost knocked completely over, snarling at him, giving him a very close view of all of their sharp denta.

But before anything that might have happened did, the first predacon gave off a growl at the second.

The second turned to face the first and there were a few more guttural sounds exchanged between the two, but after sharply turning to face him one last time the second predacon seemed to back off. Then the second predacon too went to join the feast, a sense of relief gripping the vehicon as they did.

This was going well! It actually was going well!

It was that moment his smile became a genuine one. Something that he'd so rarely got to have since...what had happened.

The first predacon turned to look at him again, the vehicon only briefly having time to wonder why, before it nudged a cube towards him.

He motioned the cube away. The offer was tempting with how low his own fuel level was, but he was certain he would be able to wait until he got his next ration at least.

The predacons had no such luxury as a ration. It would be cruel for him to take it.

But this one was quite insistant.

Whether it could tell how low he was, the vehicon wasn't sure, but with a grunt the predacon nudged the cube again.

He declined again.

And so they nudged it again.

This pattern repeated until the cube was at his pedes, at which point the predacon paused, helm tilted slightly, waiting to see what he would do about it now.

...At this point he suspected it might well be rude if he continued to deny it. Perhaps even raise suspicions?

So he finally accepted, picking it up with a gracious, emphasised nod.

The predacon gave what looked like a nod back before hurriedly, heading back to their own feast, briefly snapping at the other who seemed to be making an effort to hoard all the fuel for themself.

The vehicon found himself musing over how he could think of more than a few other members of his fellow vehicons that this sort of behaviour reminded of. The fights he'd seen break out in the Nemesis over some energon chips!

As it was, the snapping mostly died down quickly enough until soon everyone was simply contentedly consuming their fuel.

Things remained like that for a little while, but it wasn't too long before the vehicon heard the loudest roar yet.

And even though he still couldn't see them, he knew exactly who was the cause of this one.

He may not have met the source but he'd most certainly heard this one before on the Nemesis.

Predaking.

Both of the other two predacons froze for a moment, as if caught in the act of doing something wrong, before they both immediately started scrambling, grabbing the remaining cubes however they could before taking flight once again.

The vehicon waved both farewell as they did, before finally- after so long crouched- standing up, still wearing a genuine smile.

He really, really would have to make haste now, if he wanted to make it back to the pick-up point in time for XS-02 to pick him up, but he had no regrets.

In fact, he could be accurately described as ecstatic!

The meeting had gone well! That was a very good sign! They could get on! They could work together!

And all he could think of now, as he turned to head back towards the pick up point, was how long it would take for him to be able to do this again!


End file.
